Nine Plus One
by avpke
Summary: (One-Shot Collection) - The Nine were Sauron's greatest, strongest and deadliest servants. They were able to kill simply by causing fear within their enemies, wielding their weapons with ease, and could not be killed. But… what are these dark creatures doing in their free time? And what if the Witch King had a 5 year old daughter? Read and find out.
1. Travel to the Unknown

_Summary: The Nine were Sauron's greatest, strongest and deadliest servants. They were able to kill simply by causing fear within their enemies, wielding their weapons with ease, and could not be killed. But… What are these dark creatures doing in their free time? And what if the Witch King had a 5 year old daughter? Read and find out._

**A/N: This will be a collection of one-shots, which I will write along the way if I feel like it. It will always count as 'completed' because of this. Each one-shot will have a different plot, but the characters will be the same. It is based on a roleplay on the forum here, where the Witch King had a daughter, and I always wondered how they could manage to care for her while she was a child… Seeing they are Nazgul.**

**Warning: Some things mentioned here will not match the books and/or the movies. The names of the Nazgul were taken from a roleplaying game, but the bio doesn't match them. They were taken from the roleplay between many fellow users. Main characters will be: Jaina (daughter), Er-Murazor, Dwar, Adunaphel, Hoarmurath.**

**Their bios can be found here: **_w*ww.f*anfiction.n*et/*topic/108231/60181057/1/Character-creation (just take out the '*' symbols fanfiction is messed up with links)_

_Time setting: Third age, before the war for the ring._

_Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective owners. I don't own LotR. The plot of this story however is mine._

1.: Travel to the unknown

There was still peace through the lands of Middle-Earth. The villages, strongholds all bloomed with life, the forests were green, the prey was many and the waters flowed crystal clear through the valleys. You could almost see the sun smiling down at the people. Humans, elves, dwarves alike. Though, some knew the peace only lasts that long… until you look towards Mordor… where the shadows started to come to life, wanting to engulf the world once more. Something started to stir. It was faint, barely visible, but something started to rise… A foul stench of orcs, trolls and dark creatures, the smell of death and a breeze of terror. The dark army started to rebuild their lost homes, strongholds were pulled up, walls erected, and slowly, but surely, they started to seep into the greens of the world beyond the bounds of the darkness.

Sauron returned.

There was no doubt in his allies and servants. Their Dark Lord stood once more, preparing for a new, fresh start. A new chance presents itself to conquer what was rightfully his. All Middle-Earth shall fall before him on their knees and bow their head to his greatness. He stirred in the depths of his hiding, feeling the power that would help him. The power that would raise him to full potential… His ring. The only ring. The One Ring.

He still needed to locate it; it was still slumbering somewhere far away… Yet awakening slowly, calling for him, wanting to return to its Master. However, he didn't only hear the call of his artifact, but the greeting of his Nine servants, welcoming him back, and wanting to hear his command. They were all scattered through the land, maintaining the lands of their interest, wide apart. It is time to gather… Time to return to Minas Morgul.

And so, the Nine Nazgul mounted their black horses, and rode off to their old stronghold, snapping the reins to hurry and not let the Lord wait. Halfway to their destination, they met up. All Nine riding east together. The Eight following their Lord, the Witch King. Er-Murazor. The most powerful and fearless Ringwraith among them, who was chosen to lead them by Sauron himself, and voted as leader among themselves.

After a while, their fast ride became a slow walk. They slowed down their horses and followed the road leading to Minas Morgul, lined by thick foliage and massive trees. After a great silence, silent murmurs and hisses could be heard, as they were starting to converse among themselves, leaning slightly closer to each other, gesturing with their hands, mostly talking about the upcoming duties, the war, the training of troops… and the unexpected load on the Witch King's horse. A little five years old girl with blond hair and blue eyes sat in the saddle of the king in front of him, clutching her seat tightly, her curious eyes darting from one tree to another. It wasn't that they didn't know about his daughter, just that they were surprised he considered taking her with him. Well, some of them. A few knew about it, but decided to keep silent. Er-Murazor however didn't pay them any heed, but kept his invisible gaze on the road ahead, occasionally glancing down to see if his daughter was seated safely. The only one who conversed with him was Adunaphel, with whom he had been maintaining the northern lands, herding the people according how their Lord would want them to. And of course he was always there to take care of the little girl when he went out, and his daughter was quite fond of her gentle uncle. The others seemed to be indifferent towards her, or even looked at her as if she was a burden, or as a threat to a possible future title. After all, if he happened to fall, she shall take his place as the new Lord of the Nazgul, which some of the wraiths were hoping to get for themselves. They weren't too keen to have a half-Nazgul as their leader. Once he heard one of them say these exact words, the Witch King sighed silently, keeping his horse on course.

No matter how many times and when he thought of his wife, he was always indifferent. There were no feelings towards her, after all he was unable to feel them, but she seemed to feel some kind of… affection towards him. Her self-sacrifice and fierce attitude caught his attention however, and considered her as his mate or wife, after she proved herself to him. She was a quite determined human woman, who always watched his every move and took all his wishes as her command. She was a witch herself, so there were common topics to talk about. How they managed to create their child while he was a wraith, was a mystery to him though. Just like why she died just a year ago, leaving him and his brethren to take care of the little girl on their own. Their daughter inherited most of his features, like his eyes and hair as a human, also dark blood seeped through her veins, while her curious and emotional behavior came from her mother. Just like her mortality, which also made the others question his decision of making her his sole heir. The only people who seemed to support his idea were Adunaphel, Ren and Uvatha, while Dwar, Hoarmurath and Ji Indur were outright furious. Khamul and Akhorahil were silent about it.

His thoughts were rudely interrupted when he felt tugs on his dark robe and looked around sharply, expecting one of the Nazguls wanting to snap him out of it so they can talk. His anger rose slightly and gripped the reins tighter. But when he turned to either side, he couldn't find anyone. Instead, he felt the tug again from his front and looked down, seeing his daughter's big blue eyes look up at him, and one of her small hands holding the fabric of his clothing tightly, wanting to gain his attention. He didn't say a word, just stared at her, waiting for her to talk, his momentary rage vanishing as soon as it came.

She kept her gaze on him for a little while longer, then smiled at him, some kind of emotion shining in her eyes. But as usual, he wasn't too good in guessing which it could be. "Are we there yet?" Her question went unanswered by everyone but her father, as he looked ahead, concentrating on the road.

"No." Came the curt and short reply of the dark king, making sure to keep the pace of his horse even, his mind was set on their destination once again, but still keeping an ear open for the conversations going on behind him.

"And where are we going?" The girl asked, tilting her head to the side, looking up into her father's dark hood, never releasing her grip on his clothes. She didn't know where they were headed; he only told her they are going somewhere important. And if it was important, then it surely will be fun.

"Minas Morgul." Was all the king said, not looking at her, his tone monotone, completely void of any emotion. Something the girl got used to since her birth.

"And what is that?" She asked, blinking her curious eyes, raising a small eyebrow, eagerly waiting for his reply. She loved visiting new places, and this place sounded quite nice but weird at the same time.

This question made the leader think for a moment. He could tell her it was their great stronghold, one of the centers of their operation, the usual base of their kind from where they govern the troops. But he wasn't sure if she would understand, seeing she was only five. He didn't want to talk needlessly. Instead, he turned his hooded head to his right, where Adunpahel rode, his attention on the trees next to him. The assassin Nazgul always seemed to know how much to say to her, how to handle her when she was upset, and how to entertain her in certain circumstances because of the journals he kept from his own mortal life. And so it was time he helped him out once more. The Nazgul surely heard the question, but refused to answer, maybe wanting to see what the dark leader said, so the king made a slight hissing sound to make him turn and give all his attention to his daughter.

The one in question turned sharply at the call and looked at his leader, then once he nodded towards the little girl, he cleared his throat. "Ah… Well…Jaina… It is a very crowded but important place. We have been called there not long ago." He started in a whisper, not wanting to disturb the silence that suddenly fell upon the traveling group. "Orcs and trolls everywhere, large buildings… You will need to be careful there." Adunaphel refused to say more, knowing from experience that it would… frighten her or urge her to do something stupid thinking of adventure.

This wasn't really enough to answer her question, but she shrugged, thinking the other part might be too boring anyway, turning back around, she released her grip on her father's robe. She has seen orcs and the like before. They weren't that nice to her and were smelly. She didn't know why they go there now… Why can't they stay in the north, where there were only humans and just a few orcs…

The next few minutes passed in complete silence. Everyone rode either looking at the ground or the trees, some of them even took their time to start cleaning their robes for the first time in a few hundred years, trying to sweep off some odd dirt, which could be mud or very old dried blood, and a few picked leaves and blossoms from the manes of their horses.

"Are we there yet?" The little girl's –who we know now as Jaina- question cut through the silence like a sharp knife, making some of the wraiths tense up, while others just sighed heavily, clearly annoyed at the repeated question from just a few minutes ago.

"No." The quick reply came from her father again, who tightened his grip on the reins and sent a warning aura behind, just to make sure the others keep their patience in check. If they behave like this now, what will happen once they have to deal with a dozen of orcs and trolls? There were a few shifts behind him as his brethren made themselves comfortable on their horses, feeling the warning and not wanting to anger their leader, they sat in silence in their saddles once more.

Just a few more minutes later, Jaina sighed, leaning forward in the saddle just for a few moments, before leaning back once again against her father, watching the road with boredom. "Father…?" She asked, this time not looking up at him, her tone was a give-away she was rather bored, which of course the king completely missed, seeing he cannot really tell mortal emotions apart.

"No… We are not there yet." Came the firm reply from somewhere behind Er-Murazor, from the tone of voice and half-whisper he guessed it was Hoarmurath, who finally snapped and informed her of their current state of distance from their destination –as the Witch King would put it.

In return the little girl let out a heavy sigh, looking around herself, just to try and find something to do. There was really nothing much to play with. She already pretended she was the one leading the horse, and she already played with her father's clothing and the horse's mane. The way was too long and boring for her taste. Then she realized something. "Father…"

At this, almost all Nazgul let out a heavy and annoyed sigh, shifting in their own saddle, looking at each other and started murmuring, which caused the Witch King to turn his head and let out a silencing hiss. He couldn't believe how intolerant the others behaved towards his daughter. Yet again, he refused to say a word; instead he waited for her to speak again, watching the road ahead.

After a short silence, Jaina decided to speak up and continue her sentence. "…I am hungry…" Her tone was basically begging, and she made sure her father saw the look on her face. Er-Murazor guessed she was requesting food, and not just informing him about her current feelings. This was something he learned along the way, when she wouldn't stop repeating this sentence until she was fed. Same happened when she said she was 'thirsty'. Then she needed something to drink. He never understood why mortals don't simply say what they need. They always just say what they feel, something he had trouble guessing the meaning of.

"This is what we need…." Came the gruff voice of Hoarmurath from somewhere behind him once more, riding his own black horse closer to the Witch King's. "Why did you even bring her with you? Don't tell me we have to stop and hunt something… We are already late. Plus I know fully well we didn't slow down because the horses became tired, but because this… thing couldn't take the speed for too long." He commented angrily. The mage might be a loyal follower of his, but he showed his displeasure towards his daughter on the very first day they met. And he also knew why. The Nazgul wanted the position of Lord after his fall, and he took great care to show more authority in front of everyone. So, he didn't quite know when to hold his mouth frequently. Like now.

In return, Er-Murazor, as usual didn't yell back or shout, that was not his way, but kept his gaze forward on the road. The silence itself was unbearable and the tension thick in the air. The furious Nazgul was still riding beside him, his hooded head turned towards him, then lowered to Jaina, who just blinked back at her harsh uncle, but neither said a word. After half a minute of momentary peace, the Witch King turned his head towards the mage. "I have seen some blue fruit we passed a few minutes ago. They look edible."

Silence…

Complete and utter silence engulfed the forest, only the hooves of their horses pounding on the ground could be heard, as the leader and the mage locked eyes, having a quite long staring contest. The others didn't dare to talk or whisper, just looked at the two dominant Nazgul as they stared each other down. Even Adunaphel slowed his horse down; just to make sure he was way behind them… hiding behind the sturdier Dwar. Just in case a fight breaks out, he didn't want to be in the line of any blasts, curses or hits. However, he was more than sure his warrior Brother can take quite a few hits with his armor. It seemed like hours, but only a few minutes passed, and Hoarmurath broke their eye contact, snorted, then pulled on the reins of his horse, making it turn, and started galloping in the opposite direction they were heading, going back to the fruits the leader was talking about, without a word. He wasn't even out of ear-shot and the remaining Seven lesser Ringwraiths started to murmur and hiss among themselves, only to be silenced by their leader.

The ride was quiet again. Then the dark beings started to talk among themselves once more, mostly about Minas Morgul and the upcoming domination of Middle Earth, while others started to complain about having to train the army. Orcs and trolls weren't that easy to handle. They were so dumb and hard to teach sometimes, but if they wanted them to be at least somewhat deadly, they, as Sauron's most fearless servants, will have to take up preparing them. Not an easy task, but not impossible to complete. Ren and Ji Indur already volunteered for the first few dozen troops, the next will be trained by Dwar and Uvatha, while Adunaphel snatches the allies, Khamul guards the Easterling's loyalty, and Hoarmurath trains the mages. Er-Murazor will be the one who controls their actions and holds contact to their Dark Lord.

The conversation ended abruptly when the loud pounding of hooves was heard from behind them. Some did look back, while most didn't need to turn to know who completed the rather… humiliating task for their leader. The mage rode up to the king's horse, holding some blue berries in one hand with such a force, that they started to squish in his hard gauntlet, their blue juice dripping down his metal glove to the floor. The Nazgul didn't say a word, but held out the fruits to the little girl sitting in front of the lord, not at all amused and surely angry. Jaina eagerly took them, and as soon as they landed in her lap she started munching on them, chewing quickly and hungrily. The mage pulled back his hand, watching her with a mix of disgust and anger, shaking his hand to try and get rid of that blue liquid, then slowed his horse so he was riding next to Dwar and Ji Indur, silently still fuming, feeling the stabs of shame and humiliation, while the other two just stayed silent, meeting each other's gaze behind his back.

After a few hours of silent traveling the bright green forest has changed to dark rocky terrain, an indication that they are getting closer to their destination. Minas Morgul was now only a few miles away. To the five years old child, this wasn't a pleasant change. She liked the forest and the warm sunlight. She started to snuggle up to her father, sitting sideways on the saddle, sometimes burying her face into his dark clothes. The Witch King snapped out of his deep thoughts and looked down to see his daughter showing yet again some kind of confusing emotion. Mortals and their feelings… Not knowing what else to do to his trembling offspring, he let go of the reins with one hand and put it slowly on Jaina's head, stroking her hair with his thumb. This somehow always worked before. This simple gesture was enough to calm her down when she was crying, cheer her up when she was upset, or raise her happiness at any time. Just like now. The child looked up at her father, blinked and smiled, her blue eyes shining with some kind of emotion again, then buried her face back into his clothing, this time not shivering anymore. He kept his hand on her head though, just to be sure.

"Do not fear, Child." Came the cheerful voice of Adunaphel from next to them, riding closer to the father and daughter, looking ahead to inspect the road that was before them. "There is nothing to fear as long as we are around… This will be your new home."

At the last part, the little girl peeked out from Er-Murazor's robes, her big blue eyes watching her uncle, then smiled, even if it was a weak one.

Home… This word alone brought peace to her mind and made her warm inside, thinking of the older castle back in the north, where the flowers bloomed, the scent of fresh rain was blown through the land by the gentle breeze, and birds chirped happily. She closed her eyes.

So, silence fell once again over the riders. No more sounds of nature disturbed the deadly aura that was present around them. The area became more and more familiar to them; they felt their own dark soul getting stronger. Their Lord is near… and he is waiting. They soon galloped in one perfect line, the Eight behind the Witch King, their horses kicked up the heavy dust and snorted, their red eyes glinting in the darkness. Just the mere silhouette of the dark riders would be enough to send a mortal fleeing away from them, swimming in terror. Something, they were very much aware of and…

"Are we there yet?"

All that could be heard was a variety of sighs coming from the Nazguls, just as the view of their dark stronghold came into sight, partway shielded by fog, standing firmly under the full moon.

**There you go. Hope you guys liked it. I enjoyed writing this.**

**Review if you wish.**

**Thank you for reading.**

_avpke_


	2. New Task: Babysitter?

**Alright, here is another one-shot I kept delaying. Hope you like it.**

2.: New task: Babysitter?

"_It's a flower."_

"_No…"_

"_Yes it is…"_

"_No it is not."_

"_I know a flower when I see it!"_

"_No... It is no flower… That's a flame."_

_-Silence-_

"_I still think it's a flower…"_

_-sigh-_

The day couldn't go worse for Uvatha. The Nazgul had been peacefully sitting in his dimly lit room, reading one of his favorite books about the rise of Sauron, when the Witch King knocked on his door with his daughter in tow, informing him that today he will have to watch her, while he goes and meets the Harad leaders. To say the least, the intellectual Nazgul was shocked at the request. Normally, it was Adunaphel who plays the 'babysitter', entertains her when their leader isn't around, but today even the assassin had to depart from Minas Morgul, just after the Witch King, to consult the pirates. And being the only Ringwraith in the stronghold now –aside from Hoarmurath- he is now pointed out to keep Jaina safe for today, or as long as one of the two comes back. No one even dares speak with the mage about watching her… Everyone knew he hated her with a passion and always had a slave or two in his chambers... doing things with them, what are not appropriate for a five years old child, according to Adunaphel.

So here he sat now, in his chamber, leaned back in his seat with his book in front of him on his desk, trying to convince the princess, who was sat opposite of him, leaning on the desk, that on the page he was just reading the picture doesn't show a red flower, but flames that engulf Mount Doom. But the girl is persistent… He sighed and simply closed the book in front of her face loudly, and let it rest on his desk, wanting to end this brief argument. Maybe she was their leader's offspring, but he didnt consider her a worthy debate partner. She wasn't having any of that though, as her small fingers started to wander on the wooden furniture towards the book, then once they found it, she slowly slid it towards her, only to feel a sudden weight on her hand. The Nazgul simply pressed down on the object, not letting her pick it up, then enclosed the cover in his own metallic grip, pulled it away from her, then sat it in his lap. This book was his favorite, and knowing her, or children in general, he knew they had the tendency to rip, destroy or chew on things. He learned this when the girl successfully tossed some of his books out of the window because she found them boring, or when she almost caused a fire with one of his inventions… and once she even destroyed one of them by chewing on a sensitive part. From there on he was highly protective of everything that was in his poorly decorated room.

The princess pouted, narrowing her big blue eyes at Uvatha, who just crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat once more, holding his head high, as if challenging her to try and take it now. Even his aura changed, darkening the room slightly, choking anyone who had the terrible luck to be around with fear, but Jaina didnt seem to mind. She was used to such displays of power. So the girl continued glaring at him for a little while longer, then simply shrugged and huffed, then made her way to one of his shelves to look for another book that contained more pictures. That one was too boring anyway. The Nazgul watched her carefully, following her movements with his hooded head closely, tensing up slightly when she gripped a book too tight, or held it wrong. Those books were everything to him; all his knowledge came from those and some were written by him… However, he can't deny her entertainment. What else is there to do in his room, other than reading… or looking at pictures in her case? He didn't plan leaving his chambers for a day or two either, as he still needed to construct new armors and weapons for the troops, this alone will take him a day and a half, and he still needed to refresh his mind with meditation. The next few days surely will take most of his energy, and then now he has to look out for Jaina as well…

In the mean time, the little girl was sorting through the books, her small hands sometimes slipping on the bigger books' cover, dropping them on the ground, where she flipped them open and looked at the pretty pictures. These were mostly about orcs and trolls in armor, weapons, wargs, and a few pictures of castles and even about wraiths. She liked the one that resembled her father the most. The one with the crown. That must be surely him. Once done, she slid the book aside, leaving it on the floor, then picked another one that had a very neat decorated cover and put it on the ground to open it. Just as she did, a knock sounded on the door. She didn't pay any heed to it, and simply resumed looking at the drawings of –this time really- flowers. She smiled.

Uvatha on the other hand put his book on his chair, and hurried to answer the knock. To his surprise and annoyance, an orc general stood at the doorway, informing him that his assistance is requested by a southern army. Many of the catapults had been sabotaged, and need a skilled hand to fix them. The Nazgul had no other choice but to agree and aid the troop. Once the orc left, the Ringwraith walked over to his seat and sat down, leaning forward, supporting his weight on his elbow, and stared at Jaina. Now… what to do with the girl? If he took her with him, the Witch King would take his head. Even if he was already a wraith… Er-Murazor would find a way. With a heavy sigh he realized also that he can't leave her in his room alone, or let an orc watch her. Let's not even think about calling Hoarmurath for help. He sighed once more, and buried his invisible face into his hands in frustration. While he did not care for her safety, he cared for his own.

The princess didn't realize any of this conflict within her inventor uncle, but kept looking at the pictures in the books, now having two open at the same time, comparing the drawings of the dragons there, laying comfortably on the floor, swinging her legs slowly. She even started to hum a song her mother used to sing to her. She already forgot the lyrics, but the rhythm and the melody were still fresh in her mind.

The noise unnerved the Nazgul. Being a dead being, everything that was nice, pretty and beautiful was having the opposite effect on him. Like the gentle humming. He sighed once more, and opted to just take her with him, when he stopped in his tracks. He looked up sharply and tilted his head slightly to the side, as if listening for something. He chuckled, and then stood up, adjusting his clothing. His day was just saved. Uvatha turned to the little girl on the floor and cleared his throat, wanting to gain her attention, which he got after a second try.

"Let's go, I have an important matter to deal with." He simply informed her, thinking the detail surely won't interest her anyway. Not even waiting for a response, he turned towards the door and walked up to it slowly, grabbing a few tools he had in his room along the way.

Jaina just blinked, then smiled brightly, glad they leave the chamber finally, eager to have some fresh air and chase fireflies again. She stood swiftly, stumbling, almost tripping over her own feet, and ran towards the door to get out as fast as possible. She was about to pass the doorway, when she felt something grab the back of her light blue shirt, pulling her backwards. The princess looked back, only to be met with the dark hood of Uvatha. He cleared his throat once again, tapping his metal-covered foot on the stone floor, the sound echoing through the corridor. She just blinked, not sure what he wanted, but he eventually pointed her back towards his chamber, pushing her lightly inside, motioning towards the shelf. And indeed… Almost half of the books that were originally neatly organized were now scattered on the floor, some of them open, some thrown to the side, lying awkwardly. She grinned nervously, but with a sigh –knowing well that looking at her uncles nicely and cute won't change their mind- she set to work to put them back to their place. Once done, she nodded satisfied at her handywork, then skipped to the door, passing the Nazgul, she made her way down the corridor. The Ringwraith only sighed, shaking his head, looking back towards the shelf, knowing he will have to go through the books again and organize them once more.

She ran through the hallway giggling, stretching out her hands, not even letting Uvatha to catch up, who was trailing behind her, using a much slower pace, walking leisurely and placing the tools inside of his pockets.

"Come on Uvatha! Speed up!" The little girl called back, turning around to glance at her slow uncle, running backwards, then snickered and ran forward, laughing happily.

"I don't think so…" Came the emotionless reply from the Nazgul when he stopped in front of a door in the hall, then raised his voice so she can hear him from the distance that she put between them. "We are here!" He shouted, and knocked on the door lightly. Though, knocks were only a habit, they never need this 'announcing' of their presence. They can simply feel each other's aura… But then again… old habits never die.

By the time the confused Jaina made it back to him, the door creaked open slowly, revealing a clearly moody Dwar, who stood in the doorway and crossed his arms, not saying a word, but surely demanding explanation what his brethren was doing at his door with… that thing, just when he got back from his own mission. He still had much to do… Clean and sharpen his swords, meditate, then… then… he just wanted to be left alone.

Without giving him a chance to start thinking about it or guess the situation, the inventor cleared his throat and grabbed the princess by the shoulders, holding her in front of him firmly.

"The Witch King left to the south and Adunaphel to the west, and now I have to leave to repair some machinery at a troop. Jaina is under your care as long as either of us comes back." He said, speaking kind of fast, giving as little time for Dwar to understand what he was saying as possible, before it was too late. The warrior Nazgul stood motionless at the doorway, his form slightly tensed up, giving the impression he was trying to hold back his anger.

"Wha-?"

"Good luck."

"But wha-?"

"See you in a few days!" Uvatha finished fast, patting the girl's shoulders lightly, then turned and swiftly walked off, leaving the –now dumbfounded- Dwar behind with the Witch King's daughter standing in front of him. To be honest, he was glad he got free from the... degrading task of playing babysitter to the child. Next heir or not... noble or not… she was still a child, and a Nazgul was not created to take care of them. Though, there was still some kind of worry sweeping through his soul, thinking maybe leaving her with Dwar wasn't a good idea. The warrior was never a great fan of Er-Murazor, though he was loyal, just because of their Lord insisting they follow him, and only doesn't challenge him for power because the Witch King was stronger than him. The two have never seen eye to eye… and if he could, he wouldn't pass a chance to ruin their leader, or try and get rid of the heir. But then again, he surely wouldn't try. If the dark king was angered, he can become quite the problem for Dwar, and he surely will find a way to hurt the other Ringwraith despite their immunity to pain. So, Uvatha was sure he won't try anything. At least not without consequences… and their leader surely won't include him in the punishment... He didn't have any other choice, or a place to leave his daughter at…

The silhouette of the Nazgul didn't even vanish completely from sight, but Jaina, with a happy 'Weeeee' ran past her shocked uncle, right into his room, where she gasped at the sheer number of greatswords decorating the chamber, the bed, and now even the floor. She didn't know why, but swords always amazed her. Their form, how well some of her uncles could wield them… the movements, and how sharp they were… Maybe it was something she was born with? Even as a child she was drawn to them… staring at them speechless, with her eyes gleaming.

"What are you-?" Dwar started, shocked, and turned around, feeling her brush past him, and hurried inside as well, his hand clutching the door tightly. The little girl however didn't answer, but inched towards one of his swords on the floor. "Don't even-!" She picked it up by the handle and looked at it with wide eyes. It was heavy, and she started to sway on her feet, but tried to hold the weapon with all her might. "Put it down!" The warrior's voice thundered suddenly, very angrily, then slammed the door shut with one single strike, and started stomping up at her, his heavy armor clinging loudly.

The princess gasped at the sudden outburst, and dropped her prize back on the floor, backing up from her furious guardian, watching him with wide blue eyes. Of course, it wasn't that he never went up to her like he wanted to kill her, but today he was extremely moody, she concluded.

"Sit. Down." The Ringwraith said, pointing at the chair at the other end of the room, in a corner, just next to a window. Other than that, he didn't say anything, but huffed, and sat down on his own chair, not far from his desk, picked up the sword Jaina was just holding, put it across his lap and started sharpening it.

Hours passed… The chamber of the Nazgul was silent, safe for the sound of metal sliding along metal, as Dwar was still sharpening the last of his swords, the sparks flying everywhere, giving his dark armor and hood an ominous glow for a moment at each move. He didn't say anything for the past hour, but sat at the same position, moving just enough to put the sharpened weapons aside and picking a blunt new one, seemingly engulfed in his own world, not even acknowledging the little girl sitting in the chair in the other end of the room. She had been sitting in the same position as well for the past hour… whenever she tried to stand, her warrior uncle's hooded head would always turn towards her, glaring at her dangerously, as if daring her to stand up while he didn't give her permission… which would always make her sit back down and sigh in clear annoyance. Good thing that there was a window next to her, giving her a good view of the court below, busy with orcs and trolls preparing for something... maybe they will head out again. She didn't know, and was never told where they were going, but she did notice how the number of the returning troop would greatly decrease… She wondered what they were doing and where the others are at. She watched the busy streets for an hour now, leaning towards it in her seat, with her head resting on her folded arms. Her blue eyes were half-lidded and her face formed a pout, while her legs started to swing under her, making a slight creaking sound with the chair. But to her dismay, she had to even stop that, when Dwar's gaze met hers once more, stopping what he was doing, scolding her with just this simple gesture. Just great… Even Uvatha was more entertaining than him… He at least spoke to her, and didn't have this dark mood or silent and threatening attitude. He even had those nice books and toys she could play with… Of course he was very angry when she would break or tear one… but he never made her sit in one position for this long…

Her train of thoughts was broken when harsh knocking could be heard on the door, which made Dwar tense up, sigh, and after a short glance at her –practically telling her to stay on her butt- he stood slowly, putting his sword aside. He walked over to the door casually, opening it slowly, revealing Hoarmurath, who –the moment he saw his brother- started whispering to him in a very hushed and silent tone, so she couldn't tell what they were talking about. After a few minutes, her dark uncle stepped outside, but left the door slightly ajar, their murmuring seeped into the room, indicating the conversation was quite important and not for everyone's ears. Not that Jaina was interested in it… the second she realized she was 'alone' in the room, she started eyeing the beautiful sword that was put aside… The amazing carvings, the decorated grip… the power it emitted. She smiled and found herself on her feet, the chair creaked slightly when she shifted on it and she grimaced, glancing at the door cautiously. Fortunately, her uncle didn't seem to hear it or simply refused to acknowledge her presence around him, so she took a few steps away from it, and towards the weapon set against the chair Dwar was sitting on just a few minutes ago. The way was quite long –in her mind at least-, the princess would always peek at the door to see if he comes back. The closer she was to her prize, the more she would extend her small hands, eager to touch the smooth steel. She licked her lips once her fingers grasped the handle, and slowly, as silently as she could, she started lifting the sword, smiling brightly once the sunlight reflected from the blade, giving it a mysterious glow. She gasped and moved away from the chair with it in her grasp. Of course the weapon was quite large and heavy compared to her, but she was quite stubborn and determined, so maybe struggling a bit with it, but still carried the magnificent blade around, awed by it. Once she was standing in the middle of the room, she risked another peek to the door, but seeing her warrior uncle was still outside and still talking to her mage uncle, she grinned and started to swing it a bit, holding back the small giggles as she played with the greatsword. Soon, her swings became more bold, but unfortunately, she became tired by the sheer size and weight of her toy, her hands started to sweat as well, which caused quite the trouble. At a swing, the handle of the blade slipped from her hands, sending it flying through the air… straight towards… and out of the window. She grimaced and stayed in that position for a while, looking towards the window with a mix of shock and helplessness, then snapped out of it once the faint clang sounded from outside, indicating it landed not too gracefully somewhere. At this, her eyes widened, and without wasting time, she hurried back to her chair and sat down, mimicking her last position as best as she could, hoping her uncle did not hear anything… and wont find his weapon until she was in another Nazgul's care.

The first thing Dwar noticed when he closed the door was the tense feeling in the air... and the unmistakable smell of mischief. The little runt was never good at hiding her feelings or her soul from any of them, however, what she did was a mystery to him, and something told him he didn't even want to know. He sighed, shaking his head, then walked over to his chair to pick up his sword and continue sharpening it. But as he extended his metal-covered hand towards the handle, he found his fingers gripped nothing. He finally looked down to see his prized sword gone… At first, he didn't do anything, just stared at the empty spot, then his gaze slowly, but surely traveled to the little brat on the chair at the other end of the room… Would have if she was there…

His invisible eyes turned towards the door.

And there she was. Inching towards the exit of his chambers, with that usual sheepish expression on her face. Her big blue eyes very soon found his own and she smiled, but didn't say anything, instead still remained in the same position, frozen in place as he caught her going for the door. He didn't move either, but stared at her long and hard. "Where are you going?" His emotionless, if not a bit demanding voice sounded in the room, almost making her flinch.

"Nowhere…" She said curtly, now smiling at him with a wide grin, trying to hide her guilty expression. She moved this time, standing by the door, clasping her tiny hands behind her back, trying to look like she didn't know anything about what happened not a few minutes ago. This of course made all this quite obvious, making her warrior uncle sigh and stand up. She watched his every move, sporting an innocent expression.

"Where is my sword?" The question was expected of course, and Dwar didn't even think he needed to voice it. His accusing gaze should be enough to give her an idea about what he was truly missing, and who he thought had a hand in the disappearance of said item. But Jaina being half human, he thought she wasn't at all as intelligent to understand simple gestures.

"I don't know…" She answered with a very faint tone, now starting to shift in her stance, moving from one foot to another, squirming under his hard gaze, her already big eyes becoming even bigger and wider, giving him her most innocent expression she could muster. But Dwar was not one to be moved by such petty tricks.

The aura in the room changed to the worst. It became darker and even more tense than before, the warrior formed his hands into fists and took a step towards her.

At the first chance she got, the princess bolted towards the door and out of it, ran along the hall and turned the corners randomly. Her small feet pattered loudly and fast on the stone floor, her breathing was high pitched and her big blue eyes were even bigger. She finally turned another corner and stopped there, pressing herself against the wall, then slowly inched back towards it and peered around it, trying to catch her breath and gulped, swallowing down the need to breathe for a moment. Nothing. He didn't follow her. Not yet that is. Not that she was afraid of her big brute uncle, but she knew she did something wrong, even if it was an accident. Dwar will make no difference. She did once bend one of his thinner swords before, because she fell and it was the only thing she could hold herself up with… This ended with her crying and running from him for a whole day if not two, until her father came back. Though, he seemed to forget about it on the third day. Maybe she should hide for three days and come out when he forgot about it?

He never intended to follow her. Instead, his shoulders slumped as if a large weight was taken from him, and turned around, searching his room briefly, his thoughts going back to the time Hoarmurath talked to him. She couldn't have gone out… he was standing near it, nor could she have hidden it near the chair he was sitting on, also the corner and window she was sitting at was empty too. If he could, he would have blinked and slowly moved towards the bed that his room contained –of course for comfortable meditating, Nazgul don't need sleep- and after a quick scan of the room he bent down and looked under it. Empty. Nothing. Hmm…. He turned around and let his invisible gaze sweep the room once more for his prized sword, until it slowly but surely landed on the window. It was open. He never moved this quick in his whole life and death, but after not even a second he was peering out of it, looking for his item. There… It was on the roof still, but not on the same one his room was at… How she managed to throw it that far, he didn't know, and something told him he didn't even want to know. All he knew was that he will order a few orcs to get it for him, while he goes and snatches that annoying rat.

Not even a few minutes passed, and the dark Ringwraith was doing a patrol, or hunting in the long corridors, following the trail of the brat. He did not care about stalking, or quiet movements, he wanted her to hear his approach. He sensed her aura that she left behind, smelled her scent and listened to her loud heartbeat. She was afraid. This alone satisfied his mind, boosted his hunger for her soul, wanting to devour it, and show their king his failure in protecting his precious heir. He wanted nothing more, but to see his soul wavering at knowing he lost something he wanted to keep, and not even their Dark Lord can bring her back. But he wasnt a fool. The punishment and wrath of the Witch King would be far worse than the satisfaction he would gain from killing the rat. Er-Murazor took great care to show them his superior power regularly. He wasnt violent kind of leader, but made sure they get a small taste of his abilities.

His train of thoughts was interrupted when his keen senses picked up something out of place in the corridors. He tilted his dark hooded head to the side and stopped right in front of it. He bent down, his black as night armor clanging faintly, and reached out with one grey gauntleted hand to retrieve his prize. It was a book. Quite antique, with nice and expensive decorations. He turned it around in his grip, trying to determine what to do with it. If it was laying here outside in the hallways, it means it was dropped carelessly by someone. And this someone might be just the one he sought. He tapped the hard cover of the item with his armored fingers and sniffed the air audibly.

_Jaina..._

The little girl in question didnt move from her previous position. Her back was firmly held against the wall, while her big wide blue eyes peered around the corner, her tiny hands grasping her light blue shirt. She flinched involuntarily once she heard the heavy greaves of her warrior uncle thunder on the stone floor, sounding closer and closer by each determined step he took. Not a few seconds later, his tall and bulky shadow appeared in her line of sight, his pace was even, maybe a bit relaxed, but still carried the promise of great punishment in his every feature. She gasped, and put one of her hands to her mouth, backing away from the corner. It wasnt his appearance that scared her, but the realization about what item he was holding in his firm grasp. Quickly, she reached down and started searching for her prize in her shirt, but it was nowhere to be found. Her blue eyes widened and her mouth fell open...

Dwar has Uvatha's favourite book...

She managed to snatch the pretty book from her inventor uncle's seat when he talked to that mean-looking orc. To her luck and delight, he didnt notice. But her luck has run dry... She must have dropped it when she ran from Dwar's intimidating aura after she watched helplessly as his greatsword flew out the window. Her young mind reeled. What could possibly make him give the book back, without him doing something mean... Or saying something mean...

Said wraith could already feel, sense the exact spot where the brat was hiding at. He prepared himself for the silent punishment and display of his irritation. His armored hands clenched into fists, his shoulders rose slightly, and the closer he got, the bigger his steps became. He chose walking next to the wall, so he can catch a glimpse of her terrified form before she expects his full approach. But to say the least, he didnt expect what happened next...

Jaina, sporting the biggest eyes she has ever shown anyone, the saddest and most guilty expression she could manage, stepped out into his way, away from the corner and stood before him with her small hands clasped behind her back. She stood there in front of her mildly surprised uncle, before addressing him in a very faint tone. "I am sorry uncle Dwar. I promise it wont happen again." She lowered her gaze onto the floor, watching her feet, staying silent after that.

Her bodylanguage, her tone and her expression was so miserable, that it stopped the Ringwraith from acting for a few seconds. Did this spoiled rat just apologize to him? He tilted his hooded head to the side, not quite wanting to believe his senses. This did give his dark mind some kind of satisfaction, but he was sure this wont be enough to pull herself out from under the punishment. He was not a mortal, so try as she might, her fooling around will not faze him. Her stance and expression said nothing to him, he couldnt associate it with any emotion he still had stored away in his cursed mind. Even if she kneeled he wouldnt change his mind much. That would be the only gesture he understood as begging for his mercy.

"You..." He started, his fists clenching tighter at first, then pointed one armored finger at her, while the other still held the book in a crushing grip. "If I knew your father couldnt torture me in any way... you would have landed in the deepest hole within the Void the moment I caught sight of you..." His aura was defeating at this point. It swirled around him dangerously, giving him a deadly and more powerful look. The little girl in return shivered at the cold that suddenly enclosed her, and didnt dare look up at her furious uncle. While the sudden outbursts of aura and harsh words were a common sight she witnessed around her uncles, the knowledge of being guilty only increased her pangs of conscience. "But I am reduced to punish your mind instead..." He continued now raising the book he was holding and almost forgot about in her view. The increase in her heartrate, her sweating and her suddenly enlarging pupils told him the item was indeed hers. He already felt excitement within his dark mind as his other hand grasped the book as well, following her gaze, monitoring her feelings... her panic... "... You took something that was mine... and damaged it. Now... I take something that is yours..." He didnt even finish his sentence, but let his hands do their job. He ripped the book apart in one single try, digging the metallic claws of his gauntlet into the cover, relishing in her gasp of shock, and disappointment... Her book, now in two parts, soon landed on the floor in one heap, sounding a loud thud, which echoed through the corridors.

Jaina watched silently as the remains of the once pretty book was carelessly dropped to the floor. She blinked her bright azure eyes, mourning the loss of such an amazing toy. Really a shame... But... it wasnt hers. She will surely find new ones in Uvatha's shelves. She saw hundreds of books with vibrant bright covers, and sketches of dragons. She raised her eyes to her uncle, who was by now standing in front of her, his arms crossed before him, satisfied by her expression and the damage he has done.

"Uncle... I dont think..." She started, pointing towards the ripped book on the floor. But she was cut off by the glowering Nazgul, who thought she was trying to make excuses, and complain about the -to her mind- too harsh punishment. While she was lucky she only got this much from him...

"I think it was a mild punishment you got. Too soft if you ask me. But if you wish, I can double the damage..." He chuckled darkly, before stepping on the destroyed item on the floor, hearing a satisfying crunch from it.

"But the book..." She tried once more, pointing at the said item again.

"Silence, mortal!" The Ringwraith almost bellowed, taking a step towards her, his dark armor giving out a series of clangs. "Dont even dare giving me a lecture about what I can do, and what not. Compared to my sword, this puny book is nothing. Just a meaningless sorry excuse of a...!"

"Has anyone seen my book?" Came the faint, yet demanding voice of Uvatha as he rounded the corner, hearing the voice of the little girl, who more than likely snatched his favourite book before. He was already on his way to the given location, when his thoughts randomly wandered back to the time, when he sat down on his chair after speaking to the orc general. The book... It wasnt there. He also forgot a few key tools, so it was truly the best to turn around. His worry was valid when he found the tools, but his book was nowhere to be found. He knew where to look for it though. He wasnt surprised to find Dwar scolding Jaina because of something he didnt even want to know about... What made him stop in his tracks was the sight that greeted him...

His book... on the floor... ripped... dishonored... ruined... done for... disrespected... damaged beyond repair...

He fell silent instantly, and slowly, very slowly, his invisible gaze wandered from it, up the foot that dared steepping on it, right to the hood of his warrior brethren.

His revenge shall be remembered through the ages...

Let us say... it wasnt only Dwar's sword that earned a free-flight that day.

**I hope you liked it. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews.**

**Review this too if you'd like.**

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